


No Promise Left Unkept

by staridari



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, References to Depression, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 19:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staridari/pseuds/staridari
Summary: Julian discovers a washed-up apprentice at the rowdy raven. Amara isn't feeling very rowdy.





	No Promise Left Unkept

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware I suck at summaries... More info on my apprentice (Amara) on my Tumblr (same username). Please mind the tags. Feedback is appreciated, it's been a while since I've written and I'd like to know if I should write more :)

           It wasn’t like her to be at the Rowdy Raven so late by herself, nursing an all-too-warm drink surrounded by drunken, blubbering _idiots_. Usually,  **she**  was the idiot, along with the occasional Julian. Such reminiscing thoughts only brought more sorrow to rest upon her slumped shoulders, the silence of joyous company had left her distraught. It wasn’t uncommon for Asra to take his leave, but at least the last time she was given a promise of quick return. A comforting,  _see you soon!_ He had done no such thing. 

A frustrated huff left her pursed lips as she bit the edge of the glass, teeth clinking obnoxiously to distract from her even _more_  obnoxious mind and the relentless cawing of a crow. Asra, after all, was her closest friend. No, he was  **more** than that, he was a reason to get up in the morning. A reason to _live._  His teachings had given her purpose, and now, she was struck dumb - her other hand left toying with his deck of cards in her coat pocket. He would have scolded her for being so careless, he was not her  _only_  company. She had no need to feel so alone, truly! What of Portia! The bright girl never failed to make her grin, but she was Nadia’s handmaiden. Her duty was at the palace, not at her side. Nadia, of course, had an even larger purpose behind those walls.  _Julian however_  -

"You’re looking awfully gloomy.”  _ **Julian.**_  Her teeth cease their relentless nibbling on the glass and she wiped her mouth, turning a tad to raise a brow at the man. She should have left at the crow’s call.

“Nosy, are you?” she smirks towards the other, lopsided and painfully fake - One that didn’t reach the eyes. Julian was no fool. He knew better than to believe that, anyway, he had all but perfected the art. Amara wouldn’t admit to being fond of Julian. She was ( _terribly so)_   **stubborn.**  Asra wasn’t all that thrilled at her choice of companionship, or as he liked to call it,  _hopeless fools._  Asra was the fool for believing Amara didn’t know otherwise. 

A hum of distant acknowledgment leaves him as he waves down the bartender, exchanging hushed words, ones that hadn’t quite reached her ears. It wasn’t until his fingers tap on the top of her hand that she knew he had finished his conversation.  _Ah, she spaced out again._

“How many, dear?” her face quickly drops at his question, one she had known all too well. Like a doting mother.

“I’ve only had one. I’m not a child.” she snapped. Julian was nothing more than a drinking partner, she convinced herself, despite the fact she was keeping him hidden from Nadia.  _He mattered enough for that._

“You pout like one.” she could practically hear the grin in his voice. Amara swung her legs around the stool and hopped to her feet, attempting to steady herself as she did so. His eye had only just now caught sight of the three glasses that had been wiped dry. Julian did little to hide his pained expression. 

Asra had warned him about Amara’s recklessness and lack of self-care, and yet it never ceased to  _nag_ at him. He himself had less than stellar care in that department, and she had been there to coax him from his sorrows with teasing jokes and pleasant laughter. What did he have to offer, he wondered?  **Nothing;** nothing but himself. She deserved  _better,_  but the absence of her master had made up his mind - She was in no place to be alone.

“Woah, easy,” he offers a small chuckle and steadies her himself, his hands squeezing her shoulders as he bent forward. Her expression was obscured, though he was certain he would be met with a scowl. He guides her through the drunken fellows with haste, Malak flying out the door just as quickly as he came, squawking above the pair before blending in with the sheet of darkness.

Amara was immediately met with the smell of rain. Her foot dipped haphazardly into the small puddle before them, expression souring further as a rumble protracted from the sky. She was  _certain_  the world had it out for her. Julian took note of her shiver at the sound  _(and the chill the cool rain had left in the night air)_ and, despite his own reddened cheeks, pulled her form to him, broad shoulders draping his coat across her. Normally she would have shoved him away and spat some snarky remark,  _yet…_ she could not find the will in her to do so.

_“Thank you."_

her voice was small but she sounded genuine and for the second time that night she dipped her head low, untamed locks of chestnut and grey shielding her ever-glowing cheeks from his prying eye. 

Amara breathed the shop air in deeply, finding herself lost in the scents that she had deeply associated with the word  _belonging. Home. **Asra.**_  She flinches at the mere thought of him, of how disappointed he would be if he has heard of her night. Her drinking with a man on the run. A curse snapped her from her intrusive thoughts. 

"It appears it isn’t going to let up. Pity.” Julian peeked out the small shop window clicking his tongue in distaste, an awkward silence following suit. His gaze remains fixed on the brewing storm outside, and for a moment Amara found herself instead lost in another sea of intrusive thoughts - of Julian, admiration as his face lit up with the flicker of the storm. His hair was soaked now, messy and curled against his eyepatch. A sight to behold,  _she marveled,_  a sight to lock away, only for her eyes. Just  _ **them.**_

“Will you stay?” she questioned, though her voice hitched into more of a plea.

“Only for you.” her heart was alive and beating, comfort and warmth returning along with her lopsided grin, genuine and lively, and he _notices._ Without words she expresses her gratitude, her small fingers reach to pull the drenched coat from his worn shoulders. The small act was enough, and the coat is pooling against the wooden floor he brings her into his arms. 

He provided something even Asra could not:  **a promise to stay.**


End file.
